


It'll Pass

by lha



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s05e04 The Gift of Promise, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 15:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10516428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lha/pseuds/lha
Summary: Post-ep addition to The Gift of Promise.James is struggling to shake the after effects of the coffee but just wants to be left alone.  Luckily he's not the only stubborn one.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this several years ago and shared it on LJ but found it again and decided that it was worth sharing :)

Robbie Lewis looked up from his desk as the door opened and was in equal parts shocked at seeing Hathaway there and at the state that he was in.

“Should you be up, Hathaway?” he asked as the younger man stepped into the room. It was three days since he’d drunk the arsenic tainted coffee but he obviously still wasn’t well and now that the case was over there was no need for him to have dragged himself in.

“I’m fine, Sir,” came the terse reply as James almost collapsed into his own seat. Robbie merely raised an eyebrow. “I still feel like hell, but I’m told it’ll pass.”

“Well why not stay home until it does, eh?” He couldn’t help but feel at least a little guilty about his sergeant getting poisoned on duty and he certainly still looked like death warmed over. 

“I’ll be fine, Sir. I’d rather just get on.” Robbie wasn’t convinced but couldn’t bring himself to argue with him anymore so settled on keeping a close eye on him as the day went on. 

There was plenty of paperwork to keep them occupied at their desks and it was after two when his stomach reminded him that it was too long since breakfast. Glancing up and across the room he frowned at the grey countenance before him. 

“Lunch?” he suggested.

“I’d rather not, Sir,” James replied, any colour he had draining from his face, “but you go ahead.”

“Can I at least bring ye’ something back?” 

“Really, better not to, Sir. I’ll just stick with this.” He raised the bottle of still water that was sitting on his desk and Lewis couldn’t help but notice that he’d drunk barely an inch.

“If you’re sure,” he conceded unhappily, and headed out the door. 

He wasn’t gone long and when he returned he put a bottle of lucozade down on Hathaway’s desk.

“Our Val swore by it when the kids were sick,” he said in defence only to have the raised eyebrow raised further, “besides, ye’ need something more in ya than water, it’s been how long?” James made a face that indicated quite clearly that he didn’t approve of this line of questioning. “Suit yersel’ lad, but I’m only trying to look after ye’. Looks like a strong wind would knock ye’ off yer seat.” James merely rolled his eyes at him for his trouble, but there was a touch of colour brought to the younger man’s cheeks as he turned back to his report writing. 

Robbie retreated behind his own desk and was finally seeming to make some progress an hour or so later when his attention was drawn up by the sound of a chair being pushed back. James was halfway upright but was leaning forward and didn’t seem able to let go of his desk.

“Hathaway?” he asked, standing and crossing the room swiftly.

“I…” the other man attempted.

“Easy there, lad.” he urged him back into his seat, “keep yer head down,” he instructed as James mumbled something about standing up too fast. He lent back on the desk, hand resting on James’ back with just enough pressure to keep him there till eventually the blond began to shift. 

“Sorry, Sir,” he mumbled, “I just… I uh… bathroom.” 

“’course lad,” he said, a hand under the other man’s elbow until he was upright. 

“I’ll be fine on my own now, Sir,” Hathaway said quietly but pointedly and removed himself from Robbie’s grip. He was left watching as his sergeant made his slightly unsteady way out of the room. Once he was out of sight, he returned to his own desk and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket trying to decide how best to go about what he had planned.

James Hathaway felt positively miserable. He couldn’t believe he was still feeling so wretched, he’d barely drunk enough of the coffee to make him ill in the first place. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem that his digestive system was in on that piece of information. There was always the chance that the problem was psychosomatic now though and that was why he had been so determined coming to work that morning had been a good plan. As it happened he’d been given the third degree by Lewis as soon as he’d set foot in the office and had managed to achieve only a fraction of what he normally would. Still he had been determined to just keep his head down until it was a reasonable time to go home and go back to bed. Now though, sitting in a stall in the gents bathroom, somehow finding the strength to get back to the office, never mind home seemed like a feat beyond him. 

After a few minutes he managed to make it as far as the sinks, but his stomach was still cramping painfully. He would not be sick. He wouldn’t be. It was as simple as that. It wasn’t that he particularly enjoyed the other but he could bare it as long as he wasn’t actually sick. It was ridiculous, there was nothing for him to bring up after all.

“Alright there, James?” Lewis asked, sticking his head around the door. His tone was soft and the use of James’ own first name unusual enough that it sent a pang of something through him. 

“Just needed a minute, Sir,” he said trying valiantly to pull himself together. Lewis stepped inside and shut the door, leaning back on it so no one would walk in on them. “I was thinking I might call it a day if that’s alright with you.”

“Most sense ye’ve made all day, lad.” James couldn’t remember the last time that his boss had called him ‘lad’ before today, probably not since Crevecoeur. He shuddered. “Come on, let’s get ye’ into the car and away home.” 

“There’s no need… I can manage myself.”

“That’ll be right. I’ll take ye’ and that’s the end of it.” Lewis had on his obstinate face now and had picked up the untouched bottle of lucozade along with his water bottle. James decided that it simply wasn’t worth the fight.

Once they made it to Lewis’ car, James slid into the passenger seat and let his head fall back, even with his eyes closed though he could sense the other man glancing across at him as he drove. Not long before they reached his flat, he heard the distinct beep of his boss’s phone and opening his eyes he saw the inspector’s shoulders relax despite the fact he had not taken his hands off the wheel. As they pulled up, James unfastened his seat belt and set about making as hasty an exit as he was able to. 

“Thanks Sir, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not so quick, lad, I’m not about to abandon you on the street.” 

“There’s really no need,” he protested. 

“Nonsense, I’ll not rest until I’ve seen ye’ right.” Lewis was out of the car and had locked it before James had even reached the pavement. His stomach was grumbling again and all he wanted was to be left alone in his own flat, with his own bathroom and enough privacy to die quietly on his own. He opened the door and headed straight inside, not caring if Lewis was following. He paused halfway across the living room a hand on the back of the sofa and the other clamped over his rebellious stomach. 

“Uh…” he groaned involuntarily. 

“Easy there,” Lewis said, placing a hand on his back, “bathroom?” This was a new and horrible level of humiliation. He just wanted to be alone. He could deal with anything if only he didn’t have to have anyone witness it. After what felt like an eternity James managed to shake his head. “I don’t reckon ye’ should still be this bad James, are ye’ certain that there’s nothing else goin’ on?” 

“Nothing, Sir,” he managed, standing upright and moving a little further across the room. “It just seems to be taking a little longer than expected for me to shake this off. I think I might try a bath,” he continued trying valiantly to change the topic, “you really don’t need to stay but if it’ll make you feel better, you know where the kettle and the TV are. I’m not sure there’s anything in the fridge but…” he didn’t bother to finish the sentence, knowing that Lewis would get the gist, just kept on walking until he reached the bathroom at the end of the hall and shut the door behind him with a weary sigh. 

 

Robbie watched his retreating sergeant in turmoil. For all that there was a part of him that knew James was an adult and if he really didn’t want company Robbie should make himself scarce, the more he saw the less inclined he was to leave. He was glad that the lad had been sensible enough to realise that the only place for him was home but only grew more concerned as he watched him out the corner of his eye as he drove. At least he had had a reply from Laura, or at least he assumed that it was Laura answering his text when his phone had gone off in the car. Finally turning his gaze away from the door at the end of the hall, he made his way in the kitchen and turned on the kettle as he pulled his phone from his pocket.  
-  
Does he still have a pulse? If so - not really my area of expertise. However… make sure he’s drinking little and often (preferably something with a little sugar if it’s been as long as that) I’ll have a hunt for his labs, see what his levels were like. Lx  
-  
Well at least he’d been on the right track with the lucozade, which he realised was still in the car, and if nothing else, hopefully, she would be able to tell if it was the arsenic or well… not. Without really thinking about it, he’d found himself a mug and the tea and when the kettle had boiled poured in the water. He opened the fridge in search of milk and was not entirely surprised to see that it obviously hadn’t been in regular use in the last few days. While Hathaway normally seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of fresh fruit and veg, even at the end of a gruelling case, now what little was there was well past it’s best. Mostly for something to do, he threw out everything that was beyond redemption and then emptied the bin out while his brew mashed. He retrieved the juice from his car when he was outside and opening the lid, left it sitting on the kitchen counter. 

When, sometime later, Robbie could hear the water drain from the bath, he made sure to look as settled as he could on the couch and as absorbed in the news as was possible. In reality he spent the next fifteen minutes straining his ears trying to figure out what exactly was going on behind the closed door. More than once he was at the point of standing, knocking on the door just to make sure that James was alright but given the lack of ominous thumps and that you could hardly drain a bath after you’d drowned he could only assume that the lad wasn’t in immediate danger. Eventually the door opened and he listened carefully to the slow unsteady footsteps across the laminate floor and the sound of another door opening. As soon as he thought he wouldn’t be seen, he turned quickly to look, not that the empty hallway was likely to tell him much, the fact that the bedroom door was still open was more telling however. He gave it another ten minutes but having heard not so much as a muffled footstep or the sound of a duvet being pulled back he decided it was time for action. 

“James?” he asked, announcing his presence before he reached the doorway, “ alright lad?” It was a ridiculous question, but seemed like the sort of thing he ought to ask. The younger man was perched on the corner of his bed, the light still off, in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, his suit and a towel discarded next to him on the covers. His breathing was shallow, his elbows on his knees and his head propped up in his hands. 

“Been better, Sir,” he said eventually, not looking up.

“Aye, I can see that. Come on lad, ye’ll feel better once yer in yer bed.” Robbie set about hanging James’ suit over the back of a chair, watching surreptitiously as the other man tried to gather strength from somewhere. “Pyjamas?” he asked once he was done. 

“Bottom drawer. Thanks…”

“Don’t be daft,” he chided gently, selecting a pair of cotton bottoms and a grey t-shirt from the neatly folded piles, “think ye’ can get yerself into these? I’m going to get ye’ something to drink and maybe a basin just tae be on the safe side, eh?”

“Sorry…”

“Let’s just focus on getting ye’ well for now. I’ll be back in a minute.”

When he came back, glass of water in one hand, lucozade in the other and basin tucked underneath his arm, Hathaway had managed to get dressed, even if he was ashen for the effort. He laid everything down on the bedside table and set about re-arranging the pillows and throwing back the covers. 

“In ye’ get, lad,” he encouraged the younger man and watched as he moved carefully to the head of the bed, leaning back into the pillows resting on the wall behind. “That’s the trick,” he continued, “now, water or juice?” 

 

James pulled the basin down into his lap and rested his forearms across it, his hands clasping at the rim. He held onto it like a security blanket as he surveyed the two glasses before him. Though the bath had helped ease his muscles the heat seemed to have left his head swimming even more than before and was so nauseas that the thought of drinking even the water seemed like a particularly bad idea. If this was torture, then he was certain if he was actually sick in front of his boss he would never be able to look him in the eye again. On the other hand, maybe it was better to try and fail to keep something down than to refuse to try at all like an obstinate child.  
“Water, thank you,” he said eventually, only realising as Lewis handed him the glass that he should have just helped himself. He considered it for a moment before taking a sip. It was lukewarm which normally would have driven him to distraction but he knew it was for the best, and whatever the temperature, it was like nectar to his parched throat. How it sat further down was another matter entirely but after a few minutes it seemed that he might have gotten away with it so risked another try. 

“Right,” the inspector said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them, “ye’ keep going at that, I’m going to see what else I can scare up…” he said lightly, turning and leaving James alone. Evan using the basin to prop up his arm the glass was heavy in his hand, and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything, his thought processes seemed to be like syrup on a warm day. When he came back to himself he couldn’t have said if it was five or fifty minutes later. “Couldn’t find a thermometer, a lot of vitamin c and zinc but not much else in your medicine box, eh?” It struck him absently that the other man was talking merely for the sake of having something to say. It was strangely comforting.

“Prevention is better than cure,” he murmured half-heartedly, his heading falling back and his eyes shut. 

“Hmmm, if ye’ say so. How’s that gone down?” Now that he mentioned it, James was half surprised to realise that he had managed to drink almost half a glass and that it seemed to be staying down.

“Better than expected.”

“Reckon you could take a little of the other?” he asked, lifting the lucozade off the table and effectively swapping the two glasses. Buoyed by his unexpected success, he didn’t protest too heavily and as the other man started pottering around the room, closing the curtains and placing his towel in the laundry basket he risked a taste. 

As the liquid moved across his tongue, it was almost as though his taste buds were singing for the joy of having something with just a little nutritional value. Still tentative however, he waited before risking another go. It was a good thing he did though as quite suddenly it became clear that even if his body knew it needed what little sustenance was being offered his stomach had other ideas. Operating on instinct, he deposited the glass back on the night stand and swung his legs around so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. A small and very distant part of his brain was grateful that Robbie had thought to bring through the basin and that he had continued to hang on to it like a lifeline, as he swallowed convulsively, trying desperately not to bring everything back up. It was an ill fated battle from the start though and didn’t last long.

“Easy, lad, easy,” he could hear his boss say and was half aware of someone sitting down next to him. He wanted to cry. This was all just too much and he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about how he was ever going to face his DI after this and suddenly he seemed to sobbing between retches. Everything hurt and he didn’t know why he still felt so awful and it wasn’t fair and he just wanted to be left alone to die quietly but instead there was a gentle hand on his back and reassuring words being spoken and even though there was less than nothing left for him to bring up now he still couldn’t stop heaving. 

This seemed to last forever but eventually the gap between bouts of heaves was long enough for him to realise his face was wet and that he needed to blow his nose and that the lower half of his digestive tract had started grumbling again. Suddenly there was a hanky being placed in his hand and the general comforting ramble seemed to be solidifying into actual words. 

“There now, lad, that’ll feel better.” He made a hash of drying his face but he was shaking like a leaf and couldn’t seem to get his limbs to co-operate. “Think ye’ can do without this for a minute while I…” James managed to release his white knuckle hold on the plastic but tuned out again as he realised that he really was going to have to get back to the toilet. “What…?” Lewis asked, as James lurched off the bed in an attempt to stand. Even keeping his head down, the change in altitude was enough to send him reeling but thankfully the other man seemed to be able to read his mind and not only caught him before he over balanced but helped manoeuvre him with a degree of ungainly haste towards the bathroom. 

James closed his eyes as the world spun around him, letting Lewis guide him along the hallway but the sensation of cold tiles beneath his feet seemed to jar his brain back into reality. He pulled away just enough to assert his independence, latching onto the basin, to help him balance and thankfully his boss seemed to understand what he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“Ye’ll be alrigh’ lad?” he asked not seeming really to expect an answer. “I’ll leave the door ajar, just hollar if ye’ need me.” He listened to the retreating footsteps until they seemed to find carpet and then made his tentative move to the toilet.

Five minutes later he was sitting with his pyjamas around his knees, bent almost double over his arms wrapped around his middle and swallowing convulsively. He kept his breathing shallow in the futile hope that it might help him keep his very tenuous control just last a little longer but he was contemplating making a grab for the bin when there was a knock on the open door. 

“Thought ye’ might like this back.” Lewis said lightly, handing him back the clean basin. 

“Thank you,” he managed, sliding it onto his knees just in time for him for the heaving to begin again. He knew that there couldn’t possibly be anything left to come up but it didn’t seem to matter much. Thankfully this spell didn’t last more than a minute or so but by the end it was all he could do to keep his head up out of the bowl. 

“Here let me,” the other man said, resting a hand on his shoulder and taking the basin back. James couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed anymore, he just wanted this to be over. He knew he was reasonably descent bent over like this, if he ignored the complete humiliation was inherent to the current situation. “Take yer time lad, let me know when ye’re ready to move.” There was the sound of footsteps again and he was alone in his misery. 

Robbie left the younger man hanging onto the sink like grim death, not at all convinced that it was the right decision. He knew his sergeant well enough however to understand just how important this little but of dignity would be to him. Leaving the door a good foot open, he made his way back into the bedroom, listened intently for any sound that might mean James needed assistance. The room seemed particularly dark after the bright lights of the hall and bathroom and he had to wait a moment while his eyes adjusted. Once he could see what he was doing he picked up the hastily discarded basin and after a little consideration carried it through to the kitchen. It was not ideal, but given the situation it would do and it seemed that a few mouthfuls of water and a little sports drink looked much the same having come back up as they did before they went down. He rinsed it out with a little cleaning fluid he found under the sink and having dried it out, went in search of his phone. Laura had sent him another text in the meantime and he read it twice before deciding what he ought to do.  
-  
Have checked the results and they’re barely high enough to register as abnormal. Certainly could have made him feel rotten but I’m not surprised that they didn’t recommend anything but symptomatic treatment. Should be on the mend soon :) Lx  
-  
Well that was fair enough but from where he was standing James certainly didn’t seem to be getting better but worse. He contemplated calling her, asking for her opinion, he didn’t think that she would mind him bothering her but he wasn’t sure how James would take to him bringing in someone else. Robbie really did feel for him the poor lad, he was usually so reserved and Lord knew that being ill at the best of times was rotten. The last time he had seen anyone as sick as that, his Val had had food poisoning. Even then though, it hadn’t lasted long and he couldn’t help but wonder if his sergeant had been this ill for the last three days. Picking the basin up, he headed back to the bathroom and knocked on the door. 

Wretched didn’t even seem to cover the sight before him but he tried to keep his voice light as he handed the basin back over just in time. This bout didn’t last nearly so long but seemed to ring every last drop out of the young man leaving him shaking like a leaf and pale as a sheet. Standing awkwardly by the door, he tried to judge how much help he was likely to be able to give before his own departure was demanded. 

“Here let me,” he said taking charge of the basin again, placing what he hoped would be a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Take yer time lad. Let me know when ye’re ready to move.” He hoped that by offering him a little privacy to get himself sorted out, that the young man would call on him when needed. He puttered about the bedroom, straightening the sheets and sorting the covers until he heard the toilet flush and the sound of someone shuffling around. By the time he made it back to the bathroom, James had sorted his clothes but was back sitting on the now closed toilet lid. 

“Sorry, Sir,” he mumbled. 

“Hush, lad,” he said firmly. “Let’s get ye’ back to bed.” Reaching down, he lifted one of the young man’s arms and wrapped it round his own shoulders helping him to stand.  
A quiet moan was the only warning he got before James’ eyes rolled upward and his long frame started to crumple. Robbie was left trying desperately to hang on and slow their descent to the tiles while avoiding sharp edges and unyielding porcelain fixtures. He was mostly successful but they ended up in something of a tangle, with himself caught partly under the unconscious man. Almost as soon as they were down however, the sergeant’s eyes began to flutter. 

“Uhh…” he moaned.

“Easy,” Robbie urged, shifting out from under the sprawling limbs and grabbing a towel off the rack to replace his arm under James’ head. 

“I… Wha…” 

“Shhh now, jus’ rest there a minute.” he urged the younger man, trying desperately to cover his own concern. This was well beyond his capabilities and he didn’t really have the first clue what he was supposed to do now. 

“Sir?” came the quiet request, as James tried valiantly to look at him, his head resting to one side. 

“Not te’ worry, James,” he said, resting his hand on the young man’s forehead, noting that at least he didn’t seem to running a particularly high temperature. “I’ve got ye’, jus’ rest there a moment.” His revelation about the temperature was enough to kick start his brain it seemed as almost automatically he reached for one of his sergeant’s wrists. He might not be an expert but the rhythm beneath his fingers was far from steady and less than strong. “Jus’ rest a bit, lad. I’ll be right back.” Running his hand back towards the lad’s hair, he stood and stepped over him towards the door.

Heading straight to the kitchen, he retrieved his phone from the worktop and had dialled before he had even really thought what it was he was doing. 

“Robbie?” Laura asked as soon as she answered.

“I… I need some help,” he began, suddenly not sure what exactly it was he wanted or how to go about.

“What’s happened?”

“I… the lad’s just passed out in the bathroom. I... he’s not getting better. He’s been throwing up solidly for the last hour and I don’t know what to do and…” 

“Robbie,” she said firmly, “Take a deep breath. Is he conscious now?”

“Yes, he uh, he woke up almost as soon as we got to the ground.”

“Does he know where he is? Who you are?”

“More or less. I think so…”

“Did he hit his head?”

“No, no I caught him.”

“Is he bleeding or has he hurt himself?”

“No, no I don’t think so but I could barely find his pulse and it was… ”

“And you?”

“What?”

“You didn’t hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine damn it!”

“Robbie, try to calm down. I’m on my way but it’s going to be at least fifteen minutes before I’m there and I need you on the ball. It’s either that or I call an ambulance now.” Her tone was entirely professional and he knew that she meant what she was saying. For all that her specialty was the dead, he knew that she volunteered at a clinic and that she actively kept her prescribing rights up to date. More than that though, he trusted her. 

“No,” he said forcefully, “No, he would hate that. I’m sorry, I’m fine just tell me what I need to do.” 

“Ok,” he could hear the sounds of the street around her and then her car door closing sharply, “it sounds like he’s probably dehydrated which has caused his blood pressure to drop and that’ll be why he lost consciousness. I need you to elevate his legs if you can, try and make him comfortable but don’t try and get him up just yet, he’ll probably just pass out again and there’s a lot of him even if it doesn’t weigh much. I don’t want to end up with two patients.”

“Sure, Doc,”

“Give him five minutes then try him on the water again.” 

“Not sure he’s going to go for that…”

“Well it’s either that or he needs to be in hospital on an IV. Even if you can get him to wet his lips just now, that’s a start.”

“I’ll do me best.”

“Right, now where exactly am I going…”

Robbie gave her the address, and took a moment before carefully tucking his phone back into his trouser pocket and heading back through. 

“Hey there lad,” he said gently as he approached. James had turned his head while he was gone and was looking towards the door, his eyes were unfocussed however and Robbie was not entirely certain that he was processing what he was seeing. Crouching next to him, he ran his hand across the younger man’s brow again and the blonde blinked sleepily before his gaze came into focus. “D’you know where ye’ are lad?” he asked, bearing in mind what Laura had asked him earlier, wondering if perhaps he’d been too quick with his assumptions. He watched as James licked his lips and swallowed dryly.

“Hell,” he eventually murmured and Robbie snorted in response, further reassured when he continued, “bathroom.”

“Good lad, let’s see if we can’t get ye’ a little more comfortable. The doc’s going to be making a house call, but she thinks yer blood pressures on the low side so we’re just going to wait here till she arrives.” Robbie knew he was babbling as he helped the younger man rearrange his limbs in the tight space. He folded another towel and draped it over the edge of the bath before lifting James’ ankles to rest there, well above the level of his heart. 

“Sorry,” James murmured, looking up at him again. 

“I’ve told ye’ lad, don’t be daft. Ye’re ill and that’s nothing to be sorry for.” 

“…shouldn’t… You shouldn’t have to…”

“Enough,” he said firmly. “Now I’m going to get you something to wet your lips with.” The younger man frowned and made an unimpressed noise. “Come on lad, doctor’s orders. I won’t be long.” 

He realised as he was retrieving a glass from the cupboard that getting him to drink without choking while he was lying on his back would be near impossible. He remembered Val using a straw though when the kids were ill, so he set about hunting in various drawers and cupboards. There was no packet of straws which was perhaps usurping but he did eventually come across a juice cartoon with one stuck on the side. Removing this, he collected the glass and headed back to the bathroom via the bedroom where he collected a blanket her had found folded on a chair. 

“Right, here we go lad,” he said on his return, “thought you might like this,” he said, draping the blanket over the young man. “Wouldn’t do for you to catch a chill on top of everything. Here now,” he continued, retrieving the glass from on top of the cistern and settling down on the floor next to him. “Just a little,” he encouraged him, holding the glass close and placing the straw at James’ lips. He almost caved in at the look in his sergeant’s eyes but he knew that they had to keep trying. After a moment, James took the straw and sucked just enough to pull few drops of liquid into his mouth. Despite his initial reluctance, once he’d licked his lips he turned back to the straw and took a proper mouthful.

He watched as James relaxed back onto his towelling pillow and placed the glass on his other side, out of harms way. They sat there quietly for a few minutes before the younger man groaned and Robbie was quite certain what was going to happen next. He couldn’t remember for the life of him where he’d left the plastic basin but in the end, it probably wouldn’t have mattered, it all happened so quickly. Robbie knelt up and with one hand beneath the other man’s knees shifted his legs so that his feet were back on the flat and with a hand on his far hip and shoulder rolled him onto his side just in time. He lifted the corner of the towel next to his mouth to help to contain the damage, but there wasn’t much to come up. What scared him most was that James seemed to have become so listless that if he hadn’t been there, there was every chance he would have choked. 

“Come on lad,” he said with a sigh, “let’s get ye’ clean.” He slipped a hand beneath his head and lifted it just far enough to pull the soiled towel free. He used a fresh corner to wipe James’ cheeks dry and then his mouth. Leaving the side of his head cradled in his palm, he reached across to pull the towel off the edge of the bath. “There ye’ are, that’ll feel better.” he said, laying him back down on the makeshift pillow. “Shh now...” he urged, stroking the lad’s hair in an attempt to offer a little comfort. “It’ll be fine… the doc won’t be long now.” Robbie wasn’t sure how long it was before the doorbell rang but he knew it felt far too long. 

 

James watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Lewis left the room and was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of abandonment. As if on some kind of time delay though, he realised that his doorbell had rung just before he left. In the time it took him to process this he obviously drifted again as the next thing he knew, Laura Hobson was crouched down in front of him, a hand on his forehead. He knew she was talking, asking him something, but be couldn’t figure out what. She turned away from him, looking up at where Lewis stood in the doorway and he turned and went away again. He was watching the empty space when he realised someone was tapping his cheek.

“James?” she asked. He blinked trying to bring her into focus. “There you are,” she smiled at him but he didn’t really understand why. “Robbie tells me you’ve not been very well. I need to take a closer look at you before I can give you anything to help you feel better, is that alright?” It took several moments for him to realise what she meant and that he needed to give her an answer. He just wanted to be left alone except that he didn’t really, he just wanted someone to make it better. “James, if you don’t want me to help we can get someone else, take you into the hospital…”

“N…no…” he managed almost before he’d thought about it. “no hospital.” 

“Ok, well I’ll do my best. Let’s get you flat for now and we’ll see what‘s going on.” She kept talking as she rolled him gently onto his back but it felt surreal, as though his body were not his own. He tried to follow what she was saying but he kept coming back to himself having obviously drifted. There was a discomfort around one of his arms, an unpleasant tightening that then slowly eased, and there were hands poking and prodding him in places he’d rather not think about and then something so cold it had to be a stethoscope. 

“Ugh...” he shuddered involuntarily.

“Sorry, almost done,” she said, pulling the disk away and straightening out his top. She’d pulled his feet up towards him, so that his knees were raised and she tucked the previously discarded blanket back around him. “James,” she said, once again using a hand on his face to get his attention, “you’re dehydrated and you’re blood pressure’s too low. I’m going to give you an anti-emetic, something to help you stop you feeling so nauseous and hopefully that’ll help you keep some fluids down which will help with both of those. Ok?”

James made a sound in the affirmative and quietly submitted to her ministrations as she rolled him towards her, pulled down the waistband on his pyjamas, cleaned the area with something cold before injecting him with something. She draped the blanket over him again, then settled on the floor facing towards him.

“It shouldn’t be long before you’re feeling better,” she said gently, taking his wrist and measuring his pulse. 

“Tea,” Lewis announced on his return, handing a mug to the doctor before perching on the lid of the toilet. James was struck by the fact that all three of them were now squashed into what was not a large room and the chagrin at having caused all this fuss which had faded for a while, returned full force.

“James?” Laura asked, her hold on his wrist tightening, “What is it?” 

“I….” he swallowed around the lump in his throat, “I’m… sorry.”

“Hush, no more of that,” she said firmly, “you can’t help being ill but I do need you to try and stay calm. Just concentrate on getting better for now.” James tried to do what she asked, but everything was so difficult at the moment even ordering his own thoughts. The doctor was taking his blood pressure again, the tight sensation around his arm having returned and somehow Lewis had managed to squeeze down beside them and was stroking his hair again, mumbling quietly. He didn’t follow what he was saying but drifted along, half listening to them as they talked.

 

Robbie opened the door, standing back to let Laura in out of the damp evening.

“Ye’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said, taking her case from her hand. “He’s through here still.”

“How is he?” she asked quietly, pausing in the hallway and turning back to look at him. Robbie lifted his free hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it more out habit than anything.

“Not much different, we tried the water again but no luck.”

“Well it was worth trying,” she said, setting off in the direction of the open bathroom door.

“I did have his legs up but after that last bought I left him on his side, didn’t want him to choke,” Robbie continued, handing over the doctor’s case when she held out her hand and hovered in the doorway trying to give her some room to manoeuvre.

“Hello, James?” she said, trying unsuccessfully to rouse the younger man’s attention. 

“He sometimes takes a bit,” Robbie began, trying to explain that he wasn’t completely unresponsive, “a bit of time…” Laura turned around to look at him, cutting him off with a serious look.

“Why don’t you go and make us both a cup of tea?” He recognised the dismissal but hesitated for a moment, not wanting to go suddenly. His gaze flicked back to the pale features of his sergeant on the floor, he looked so very young with those big blue eyes and his usually neat hair tousled and unkempt. When he looked back towards Laura though, her gaze had softened and he knew she understood. He gave her a tight nod before turning to leave the two of them alone reminding himself that he was leaving James in good hands. 

Once in the kitchen he paused with his hand on the switch of the kettle, suddenly finding his hands were shaking. Now that he had been able to leave someone else in charge for a bit, it seemed that everything had finally caught up with him. He didn’t suppose that anybody with a conscience liked seeing another person in distress but there was something about his normally reserved sergeant being so incredibly vulnerable. It didn’t seem fair somehow that the lad had had such a dearth of affection in his life that even when he was ill he found it so hard to accept. After a few moments, he flicked the switch on the kettle and as the water began to boil, he lent back against the worktop. Checking the time he was rather unnerved to discover that despite how late it felt, it was just a little after seven. It was strange how much difference a few hours made. 

When the tea was made, he moved back out to the bathroom, hanging back until he was sure that he wasn’t interrupting the doctor at work. He watched as she injected him with something, disposing of the syringe in a miniature sharps box, and settled him back onto his back. 

“It shouldn’t be long before you‘re feeling better,” she told James, reaching down to measure his pulse. 

“Tea,” he said with an apologetic smile to Laura, hoping to convey what he wasn’t comfortable putting into words. She accepted with a smile and nodded in the direction of the toilet. He picked his way across the room and sat down, tucking his feet out of the way and wrapping his hands around his mug. He had just taken a mouthful when he suddenly noticed Laura stiffen, putting her mug down and turning her attention, back towards her patient.

“James? What is it?” she asked, but Robbie knew the signs well enough, could see the embarrassment, the shame resurfacing.

“I… I’m… sorry.” he gasped. 

“Hush,” Laura said sharply, “no more of that, you can’t help being ill but I do need you to try and stay calm. Just concentrate on getting better for now.” She reached for the blood pressure cuff and Robbie moved her case out of the way, catching her eye and receiving a quick nod. He sat down in the newly freed space and rested his hand on the lad’s head, running his thumb over his brow like he had with his kids when they’d been little. 

“Shhh lad, shhh. It’ll be alright,” he murmured, “just relax lad. No-one’ll think any the worse of ye’ pet. That’s it, just let the doc and I look after ye’ for now.” 

He settled quite quickly and Robbie was once again struck by how little energy the young man had left for anything. By the time he drifted off however, he looked a little less upset than he had been and he supposed they had to consider that a success. He let his steady monologue drift off as Laura took her stethoscope out of her ears and turned to see what she could tell him. 

“His blood pressure’s better than it was but still too low. “

“Is that just the arsenic?” he asked.

“Arsenic doesn’t affect blood pressure directly. The reason his blood pressure is so low is that he’s dehydrated which as far as I can tell is as a result of prolonged diarrhoea and vomiting.”

“But you thought he should be on the mend by now…” 

“Well by all rights he should be,” she said with a slight frown, “but then again, everybody’s different and recoveries do vary. It might just be that once his system was out of kilter he’s not been able to set it right.” He wanted to question her further but her attention had returned to James. “I don’t suppose there was any ice in the freezer was there, Robbie?”

“Eh, not sure.” he replied. “Shall I go check?” 

“Please,” she replied, reaching back for her case. 

The freezer it turned out, was as orderly as he might expect, and did turn out to contain ice cubes in those disposal bag things that Robbie could never get to work. He liberated them from the shelf and after a moment’s thought, put the bag in a bowl to save him losing the feeling in his fingers completely. 

“Found some,” he said on his return. 

“Good. Right, James…” she turned her attention back towards the younger man. He turned his head towards her now, blinking several times but did seem to be trying the engage his brain. “How are you feeling?” Robbie watched the thought process play out across his sergeant’s face.

“Thirsty…” he came out with eventually. 

“Well that’s to be expected,” Laura said with a smile, “let’s see if we can’t do something about that shall we? And then we can think about getting you back into bed.” If he wasn’t particularly taken with the first idea the second seemed to take him by surprise. 

“K…” he agreed, and seemed to watch perplexed as Laura broke out one of the ice cubes.

“Here,” she said using the corner of her sleeve to hold the ice cube as she ran it across his lips. “That’s it,” she encouraged when his tongue darted out to lick his lips as the ice retreated. “Robbie, could you?” she asked, and he accepted the ice from her and took her lead. He kept the routine going until all that was left was sliver and a cold stream running half way down Robbie’s arm. 

“I think we’ve both got things te’ learn from this eh, lad?” he said mostly to himself, “I’m certainly not going to believe ye’ the next time that ye’ tell me yer fine. But maybe I shouldn’t wait so long to ask either, like.” 

“Sir?” James asked, with a frown. 

“Never mind me lad,”

“No,” Laura interrupted from the door, “never mind him. Here, I brought you a tea-towel,” she said, handing it over, “and you James, you I have brought this,” she said producing a glass with some murky pink liquid in it. 

Robbie looked between them both, James looking decidedly uncomfortable at the thought of drinking whatever it was that the doctor had produced and Laura the picture of professional determination. 

“Let’s see if we can’t get you sitting up first though, alright?” she suggested. Placing the glass next to his forgotten mug on the cistern, Laura squeezed round him and situated herself on James’ other side. It took both of them to get the younger man sitting up against the bath and even once he was there, Robbie wasn’t convinced he would stay that way. “That’s it, easy James, stay with us…” Laura urged him, her hand resting on his cheek as his eyelids fluttered. “Well done,” she said when it seemed that he’d regained his equilibrium. “Robbie would you?” she asked, nodding towards the glass sitting on top of the toilet cistern. He got back to his feet, noting that his muscles were going to be protesting tomorrow and stretched before he moved to collect the drink.

“Here we are,” he said handing it to Laura, and spotting the erstwhile plastic basin in the bathtub where he must have abandoned it earlier. He leant over and retrieved it before standing back upright. “I’ll just go rinse this out,” he gestured and retreated once again from the room, collecting up the half-drunk cups of tea, the abandoned glass of water and the melting ice cubes. Once he had cleaned the basin and disposed of the rest as appropriate, he headed back with the plastic bowl placing it next to James with a light ‘just in case’. The young lad mostly ignored him, his entire focus seeming to be on the glass in his hands, Laura gave him a small smile. 

“Why don’t you look out some fresh towels for in here,” she suggested, “make sure James’ bed is ready for him.”

“Th… there’s really no need.” James said, sounding more like himself than he had in hours, even if it wasn’t particularly convincing. He swallowed thickly and one of his hands reached for the basin. 

“James, I need you to try your best to keep this down,” Laura said quietly but seriously, “If you can’t it’s ok but I am going to need to get you admitted.” The look of grim determination on Hathaway’s face would have been amusing in another situation, giving the young man a little privacy, Robbie collected up the various towels that had been discarded around the room and took them through to the washing machine, tucking them out of way for the time being. In James’ room he turned back the duvet, thinking that would probably make it easier to get him into it and having considered it a moment, cleared the assorted glasses off the bedside table. He washed the pile of glasses and mugs that had collected next to the kitchen sink and knowing how much James hated things left, dried them and put them back in the cupboard. 

It wasn’t until he made his way back to the bathroom and found that James had managed to keep the liquid down for now and the knot in his own stomach relaxed that he realised how concerned he had been. He returned James’ wan smile with one of his own though and sat back down on the toilet lid while Laura slowly released the air from the blood pressure cuff, listening intently with her stethoscope at the crook of his arm.

“Better,” she said with a smile, “try another sip.” James did as he was instructed but made a face as it went down. “It might not be all that pleasant but it is full of everything you need just now,” she informed him with stern affection. 

Laura left them to go and make more tea, and Robbie found himself scrutinising the young man in the silence that followed. His eyes were averted, but he certainly seemed to be much more aware of his surroundings than he had been even quarter of an hour before. With his knees bent and tucked in so closely, he seemed impossibly small given his height, but then again if he’d always been slim he was verging on emaciated just now. The young man shuddered, tucking his bare arms in tighter and dipping his head again. 

“Let me fetch you a jumper, eh lad?” he said standing. 

“You don’…” he began, but stopped when he saw Robbie’s look of disapproval, “there should be one hanging up, right side of the wardrobe. Thank you.”

“Won’t be a tick,” Robbie replied and headed back through to the room next door. He found several hooded sweatshirts hanging neatly in a row, exactly where James said they would be and not for the first time the word ‘obsessive’ came to mind. It wasn’t everything that his sergeant was so meticulous over but the things he did care about he would fret and worry over until they were just so. Dismissing the observation for the time being, he selected one of the jumpers with a zip up the front assuming that would be easier to manhandle the younger man into. “Right,” he announced as he returned, “left arm first.” This was pretty much how he had dressed his kids until they were old enough to do it themselves and the act rekindled the fondness he had for the younger man.

James was pretty much at the point of counting down the minutes until he was supposed to take another sip of the ghastly pink stuff the doctor was plying him with. Lewis had gone to fetch him a hoody, despite his attempts at forestalling the effort. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the fact that they were going to all this effort it was just that he wished they didn’t have to. It was ridiculous that his superior officer was waiting on him hand and foot, he just needed to man up and get on with it himself or, if he couldn’t do that, then he just needed to be left to suffer alone. He’d zoned out again before Lewis returned, but snapped out of it as he entered the room. 

“Right, left arm first,” the older man declared, unzipping a soft grey hoodie, James submitted to being man handled into it, partly because he knew his protests would be ignored and partly as he was having a hard-enough time hanging on to the glass as it was. 

“Thanks,” he said when they were done, leaning back against the bath panel suddenly exhausted. 

“How are we getting on?” Doctor Hobson enquired from the doorway, a mug of tea in either hand. James looked longingly at them for a moment but his stomach rolled and he decided he’d better turn his attention else-where. 

“Doing away,” Lewis replied lightly, “thanks,” he continued taking the mug from her hand. James decided it was probably time for another sip of the indefinable pink stuff.

The pattern repeated as it had last time, and the time before; the liquid went in and then tried very hard to get back out. No, that was an over-exaggeration, he didn’t feel quite as horrible as he had before and although he still had the occasional wave of nausea to contend with it was nothing like as bad as it had been. Lowering the glass to the tiled floor, he wrapped his arms about his legs and lent forward to rest his forehead on his knees. He just wanted to sleep, to be in his own bed and to sleep until he woke and to feel better when he did. That wasn’t how it wasn’t going to work though, he did hope that if he managed to finish the drink they might leave him alone though and that would be a start. 

Over the next half an hour, he half listened as his inspector and Doctor Hobson chatted away about anything and nothing, for all the world as though they were not currently sitting in his bathroom. Occasionally Laura would encourage him to take a drink and once, helped him out of the sleeve of his sweatshirt to take his blood pressure again. 

“Much better,” she said with a smile, “and you’re almost finished.” James looked down the glass and was surprised to find that there was indeed only half a mouthful left in the glass. Biting the bullet, he took on last swallow and stilled as he waited for it to settle. 

“Time for bed,” Lewis declared, standing up and looking towards the doctor. 

“I think so, how about it James?”

“Yeah, just a second.” he said, stalling while he mustered his resources. In the end, all his good intentions about travelling under his own steam faded rapidly when his legs seemed to be entirely against the idea of bearing his weight. Thankfully, the other two had an arm each under his shoulders and seemed happy to steady him when he faltered.  
He had to rely heavily on both of their assistance to make it through to his bedroom and by the time they arrived, he couldn’t even decide whether he wanted to be sick or just pass out. As it happened he didn’t do either but quickly found himself tucked under the covers and on the cusp of sleep. He had meant to ensure that they were leaving, to let them know that he appreciated their efforts but that really, he would be fine now and there was no need for them to waste any more time. Instead though, his eyes drooped further and further as he surrendered himself to the sensation of a hand gently running through his hair. 

“Out like a light,” Robbie said quietly when he reached the hall, pulling the bedroom door ajar. 

“I’m not surprised,” Laura replied, packing up her assorted stuff, “we’ll let him sleep for an hour then well start with the fluids again. Before fastening the lock on her case, she retrieved a sachet of something and shook it so that all the powder was at the bottom. Obviously spotting his curiosity she continued, “They’re re-hydration salts, they look and taste pretty foul but it’s important to replace the electrolytes he’ll have lost as well as the fluids.” 

“Fair enough, how long will he need those?”

“Well it depends on how his system reacts to having something in it. If I’m any judge, what he came away from the police surgeon four days ago with was ‘make sure you drink plenty fluids’ and he’s chosen to ignore what they would have said about trying to eat normally. After the first day, his digestive tract will have been screaming out for something to digest which probably made him feel nauseous and it’s possible that he misattributed this to the effects of the arsenic. The worse he felt the harder it would have been to keep even the water down. This is all supposition of course.”

“It sounds about right though, stupid sod.” 

“Well we’ll keep an eye on him for another couple of hours and see how we do. If he’s not much better by the morning, then I’ll take another blood sample. Now I don’t know about you, but I haven’t eaten since lunch and it’s nearly nine.” 

“Right, takeaway then?” Robbie suggested, knowing that this at least he could take charge of. 

Once food had been ordered and there had been more tea made, Robbie started to look out plates, more for something to do than anything else. 

“I might just check…” he said, gesturing towards the bedroom but stopped at the look on Laura’s face.

“Let him sleep Robbie,” she chided. “Come on, lets sit down. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a long day.” 

“I’m sure you have, I… I’m… thank you for coming. I know you must have had better things to do and I probably should have just taken him in to the hospital but…” he didn’t need to finish the sentence. 

It had been Laura he’d phoned that night too. That night, after the fire and the Feardorcha Phelan incident, when James had been admitted and Robbie had sat in the waiting room because he hadn’t known what else to do. They had come searching for him because, despite their best efforts, the younger man was hysterical and they needed to calm him down before he suffocated himself. It had taken Robbie several minutes to get through to him, sitting on his bedside and trying everything from coaxing to authoritative remonstration before eventually, James had realised he was there and that it was going to be alright. Even then it had taken time for the irregular wheezing sobs to stop and as he had held him in his arms like a small child, James had pleaded, begged him to take him home, take him anywhere that wasn’t the hospital. 

The next morning, when Laura had put him back together, driven him home and all but pushed him into the shower to get off the smoke and grime, he had dressed in his suit and headed back to the hospital, not at all sure what it was he was going to find. As it had turned out, Hathaway had either not remembered the event at all, as the staff suspected he might not, given the amount of sedative in his blood at the time, or he was doing a very good job of covering. Robbie had quite happily played along but when James was next in danger of being admitted, after Crevecoeur, the tension and apprehension radiating off his sergeant had been enough to tell him that it hadn’t been a one-off reaction. 

“That’s what friends are for,” Laura said after a moment, quite plainly reading what it was that had passed across his face, “besides, you rescued me when I ran out of petrol and my AA had lapsed.”

“So, you’re a qualified professional with skills that are useful, and I’m good to bring you petrol in a crisis?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. 

“Well if I ever get murdered I hope you’ll both help catch the bastard,” she said with a smile getting up at the sound of the doorbell, “and you’re paying for dinner.” 

“Aye, of course I am,” he said with a half-smile reaching for his wallet. 

When they had eaten, Laura mixed up the sachet of re-hydration salts, and sent him back into the bedroom with strict instructions to get James to drink at least half of it. This was easier said than done however as the younger man seemed so reluctant to wake up that Robbie was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong. Eventually he managed to rouse him enough that his eyes fluttered and deciding this was good enough for the time being, used and arm behind his head to lift him enough that he could drink without choking. When he brought the glass to the younger man’s lips, James swallowed automatically, drinking greedily as though for the first time he had thirst needing slaked. 

“Not so fast now,” he chided, righting the glass. He only hoped that the haste with which he had drunk the best part of two thirds of the glass would not come back to haunt him. James was still barely awake though so the inspector simply lowered him back onto the pillow and sat there on the edge of the mattress watching him for a moment. When it seemed that his sergeant had slipped back in to his deep sleep, he stood and when his movement didn’t disturb the other man, turned and headed away. 

“Good,” Laura declared, when he explained how it had gone, “same plan in an hour and leave some water by his bed in case he wakes up during the night.” She was standing up, reading herself to leave.

“Thanks Laura,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, reaching up to kiss his cheek, “call me if he gets worse and I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

“You don’t have to…”

“No I don’t, but I want to. Besides, I want to make sure he can keep some actual food down. And I mean it, call me if you need to.” He helped carry her case out to her car, and when he returned, wondered around the flat until eventually he ended up in front of an awful film and slipped in to uneasy rest. 

Almost as soon as his eyes had shut, James felt as though he was being wakened. He barely realised that this was the case when someone was helping him sit up and placing a glass at his mouth. 

“That’s it lad,” a soft voice encouraged him, “that’s it. Not too fast now,” he swallowed the cool liquid down, but the glass was gone almost as soon as he had processed how good it felt against his dry throat. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open and even if he had been able to, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to. He was asleep again before he even hit the pillow. 

The night was full of moments like that; awake yet not really aware and with odd things sticking out through his hazy memory. They were disjointed, and only seemed to make sense after the fact, like the water tasting like water again and the fact that it was Lewis holding his head up while he drank. The first time he came to of his own accord however, the sun was creeping through the curtains. He lay for a moment uncertain what had happened before it began to come back to him and the unadulterated embarrassment swept over him in a suffocating wave. He pushed it to one side as he mustered the energy to roll his head to the side and focus on his bedside clock. It was after seven already and it dawned on him that he couldn’t possibly not shower before work given the way he’d spent the previous evening. It took more than one attempt to make it to the side of the bed, and just as he was attempting the next step to upright, someone opened the bedroom door. 

“Morning,” Dr Hobson, said lightly, standing there with her hands wrapped around her mug. “what are you up to?”

“Shower,” he managed finally, though the word seemed to stick in his mouth on its way out. 

“All in good time,” she said, moving away from the door, “why don’t you sit back down and we can talk about getting a little breakfast into you first.” It wasn’t really a question. 

“I appreciate your concern Doctor, but I need… I need to get to work.” The effect of this statement was somewhat diminished by the fact that his attempt t get to his feet was not entirely successful, despite his using the bedside table for leverage. 

“Careful,” Laura warned, making her way towards him quickly and guiding him back down on to the edge of the bed with a gentle hand on his upper arm. Once he was settled, she laid he mug down and rested her palm across his forehead, reaching simultaneously for his wrist. “Really, it’s a wonder that either of you have survived this long,” she said in a voice that reminded him of the matron at his junior school. “Even if you didn’t still look like an animated corpse, I wouldn’t let you back to work today. You need to give your body a chance to recover. Now,” she continued when she’d finished her observations, “how are you feeling?” 

“Much better,” he replied quickly, “really, I do, and I’m certainly well enough to go in and finish the paperwork.” He watched as the doctor seemed to have to bite down on her initial reaction and tried to mould his face into his most contrite expression. 

“Well you might think so, but my medical opinion is that you’d be much better taking a couple of days to recover properly because I’m not convinced you feel quite as well as you’re telling me you do.” She just left that statement hanging there as she looked down at him sceptically. 

Despite his best efforts, James could feel his cheeks colouring under her gaze and the little voice at the back of his head pointed out that she was only making sense and that if he allowed himself to admit it, he did still feel pretty awful. Whether she could read this self-admission in the slump of his shoulders, or whether she accepted his silence as confirmation he didn’t know but suddenly seemed as though the decision had been made. 

“You’ll feel better for it,” she said gently, perching next to him. “Why don’t I help you up and you can wash your face while I put on some toast.” James stomach lurched suddenly at the thought of eating, not helped by the long familiar pounding inside his head. 

“I think your magic medicine has worn off,” he said with what he hoped passed as a smile, placing his hand across his stomach in an attempt to sooth it. 

“It will have. I know you’re feeling nauseous but it’s a good bet that having something in your stomach will help settle it.” James wasn’t convinced. 

Laura watched the thoughts play across the usually guarded young man’s face. He looked genuinely distressed at the thought of having to eat and there was a flicker of something at the back of her mind that she didn’t dismiss so much as file it away with several other incidents for consideration at a later date. For the time being she decided to plough on. 

“From what I can tell, you’ve tried avoiding solids and that doesn’t seem to have helped so why don’t you give this a shot and I promise if it makes you sick, you can have some more magic medicine.” Eventually, after some serious consideration, he agreed and allowed her to help him up. 

Once he was up he seemed much more stable but when he squinted she asked,

“Dizzy?”

“No,” he replied defiantly before softening a moment later, “my head’s pounding though.”

“That’ll be the dehydration, you’re much better than you were but you’ll need to keep your fluid intake up today. I want to check your blood pressure again before I head into work but if you can keep down the toast you can have some paracetamol.” 

“You’re too kind, Doctor.” The deadpan response was so much more in character than she had seen from him in too long and she laughed to hear it. She didn’t turn on the bathroom light but left the door wide open from the well-lit hallway, before leaving him to his own devices. She had stopped by the 24hr Tesco on her way this morning to buy basic necessities that had been sorely lacking from the cupboards last night. popping a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, she put the milk in the fridge along with some orange juice. 

She could hear the sound of running water and after a few minutes, footsteps across the laminate floor back towards the bedroom. When the toast was done, she put it on a side plate and took it back through. James was sitting, leaning back against the head of the bed and although he now looked a little more awake and certainly not quite as ill as he had the previous night he was still distinctly grey. He offered her a half smile when she came in and she was pleased to see that he’d refilled the glass on his bedside table from the jug Robbie had left and was sipping regularly. 

“Deliver me from my enemies, O God; protect me from those who rise up against me.” he said glaring down the plate and obviously trying for levity even if it was clearly an effort. 

“Just try little and slowly to start with and we’ll see how you get on.” she said, handing over the plate and noting that the plastic basin had made its way back to the young man’s side. 

“You,” James began after a few moments, swallowing dryly, “you really don’t have to stay. I know you must have better things to do.”

“You really are priceless James and not nearly so much of a chore as you seem to think. This is what real grown up friends do for one another you know; keep an eye on one and other, offer help and support as necessary. It’s not as if you wouldn’t do the same,” she chided him gently, “when Robbie came to visit after my near-grave experience bringing, incidentally very good, home cooking do you really think I bought that he had a newly developed culinary streak?” She let him think about that for a moment before continuing quietly, “what do you imagine would have happened to you last night if you’d been on your own?” As a general rule, she didn’t like to scare her patients, never mind her friends, but if that was what it was going to take to get it through his thick skull well then, so be it. “Besides, the only way I could convince Robbie to go home and get some fresh clothes was to promise that I wouldn’t abandon you. He’s going to swing past the station and collect some paperwork to keep him out of mischief while you catch up on your beauty sleep.” James snorted at this and took another small bite from the slice of toast, chewing it carefully before swallowing. 

As it happened, by the time that he’d worked his way through a whole slice, James eyes were once again drooping with fatigue. 

“Try and finish that glass,” she said gently, filling it again from the jug. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he still wasn’t producing enough urine to need to use the bathroom. The sound of the front door opening saved her from dwelling too heavily however. “I’ll be right back,” she said, tapping his knee through the covers before standing and going to see how Robbie had faired. 

Robbie juggled his stack of paperwork, a carrier bag and the keys, managing to dump most things on the coffee table before he actually dropped them. He looked up to see Laura looking at him in amusement.

“How long are you planning on staying?” she asked with a mischievous grin. 

“Until I trust the lad’s not going to expire through lack of attention.” 

“I think the immediate danger of that had probably passed,” she replied coming across and pulling her coat off the arm of the chair. 

“Really?” 

“Well so far so good on a slice of toast. He needs to keep up the fluids through, maybe try some soup later on, there’s a carton in the fridge. I’ve told him that he’s not going back to work until he can stomach something with nutritional value so you might want to remind him of that. If he’s alright with the soup though, whatever he fancies within reason after that.” 

“Right. I spoke to Innocent when I was in and she’s insisting that he takes tomorrow too and that‘ll take him to the weekend. He should be right by Monday,” Robbie continued, trying to convince himself as much as anything. 

“I’m sure he’ll bounce back quickly enough, just make sure he doesn’t d anything stupid.” Laura arched an eyebrow at him before continuing, “I’m not on call today so if there’s any problems get in touch, it’ll be a pleasant break from the monotony of writing up reports.” 

“My duty is to serve,” he replied, realising too late that really that was one of James’ lines. “We’ll be fine, like” he added when she picked up her bag and headed for the door, “have a good day.” She leant in and kissed his cheek before she left.

“You too, and remember - no shenanigans.”

“Yes mother,” he replied, rolling his eyes as he watched her walk out to her car before closing the door again and heading back down the hall. As soon as he saw his sergeant, sound asleep again with an empty glass resting loosely in his grip, he knew that they’d be fine though and if they had any luck, they might both learn a little from this experience.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you've enjoyed - please let me know your thoughts!


End file.
